The Reunion
by starrynight878
Summary: It has been nine years since the incident at the art gallery, but Ib hasn't forgotten. She also hasn't forgotten Garry, who mysteriously disappeared after they returned home. When they are reunited, it's obvious that the art gallery, along with Guertena's artwork, is not done with them yet. I do not own Ib, or any of the characters.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

The Reunion

I woke up to a bright light. Slowly opening my eyes, I saw that sunlight was seeping through my curtains. Frowning slightly, I crawled from underneath the covers, standing up. I stretched, yawning loudly. Another night of hardly any sleep. Every night, the same nightmares haunted my dreams. I woke up screaming almost every hour. But, I was used to the lack of sleep by now. These dreams had been occurring since I was nine years old.

Slowly, I walked over to my dresser, checking the small calendar that hung on the wall next to it. Sunday, November 15. I blinked a few times, continuing to stare at the date. November the 15...There was something very familiar about that date, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

Shrugging off the strange feeling that I had gotten from the date, I stepped in front of the mirror, looking at my reflection. My unusual crimson-brown eyes stared back at me. I ran a hand slowly through my long brown hair, sighing.

I bent down slowly, pulling some of my clothes out of my dresser. I pulled out a simple white blouse, slipping it on and buttoning it up. Then, I pulled on some black tights, putting a black skirt over the top of them. Then, I stood up, looking around. That's when something red caught my eye, sitting on top of my dresser. I picked it up, running the silky material through my hands. It was the red bow that I had always worn as a child. The same one that I had worn years ago when...

"That's it." I said aloud. I sighed, putting my face in my hands. It was the ninth year since the incident at the art gallery. I sighed, peeking through my hands and staring at the floor. I stood up, placing the bow back in its home on top of the dresser. Then, just for old times sake, I picked it up again, slipping it on. Had it really been nine years? It seemed like it had happened just yesterday...

I walked towards the door of my room, eager to get out of the house and get some fresh air. I needed to get away and think for a while. Walking downstairs and to the kitchen, I saw a note that had been taped to the refrigerator. I tore it off quickly, reading it to myself. It read, 'Dearest Ib, We have left town for the day for an emergency meeting with your father's company. We will be back at approximately seven o'clock tonight, at the very latest. Take care. Much Love, Mother and Father.' I folded the letter up, placing it in the front pocket of my blouse.

Well, that meant that I didn't have to explain to anyone where I was going today, or why I was acting so strange. I walked to the closet, taking out my coat and putting it on. I buttoned it up, then put the hood over my head. I bent down, putting on some black winter boots. Then, I walked out the door, heading to the one place that I always went to clear my head. It was a small cafe in the middle of town that sold macaroons of all different colors. Garry had told me about it back in the gallery all those years ago. When I was about eleven, I began coming here often. It always reminded me of Garry, and kept him close to my heart.

After the terrors at the art gallery, Garry and I had only seen each other once. We had met up at the shop one evening. However, my parents had followed me there, as any parents would do to their nine year old daughter. I was forced to try and explain to them how I knew a seventeen year old man. When I couldn't give them a straight answer, they told him that if they ever caught him near me again, they would have to place a restraining order. They told him that it was inappropriate for a seventeen year old to be associated with a nine year old. Looking back, I know how very suspicious that must have looked. But ever since that day, I had looked for him everywhere, but he was nowhere to be found. After about two years, I questioned the owner of the cafe. He told me that Garry had left town for good, and had gone to attend college. And all without even saying goodbye.

My parents and I had fought about Garry for months and months after that. I blamed them for driving him away from me when I needed him the most. I was a selfish child, but I was furious. I needed Garry. He was the only person who would ever possibly be able to understand what I had been put through. And now, he was gone. I would probably never see him again. But still, I returned to the cafe almost every day, hoping that I might find him. I wasn't going to give up hope of seeing him again. I had so much to tell him...So much to talk to him about...I may have grown up, but I still needed someone like him to talk to.

The art gallery had closed down about a year after the incident. Apparently, it just wasn't as popular as it had been in previous years, and it went totally bankrupt. There were rumors about it. Apparently, all of Geurtena's work was still locked inside the gallery. It remained completely untouched. I had taken every means necessary to never have to pass by that terrible place again. And so far, it had worked.

As I walked outside, I realized that there was a fresh coat of pure white snow on the ground. The snow still fell, dusting all of the trees and houses. I took a deep breath, taking in the fresh, clean winter air. It was good for me to get out of the house, and out of my own mind. Especially on days like today. Or specifically, today. The gallery terrorized my thoughts more than ever lately...

When I finally reached the shop, I realized that I was totally starving. I walked up to the door, opening it slowly and stepping it. I stomped the snow off my boots and onto a mat, then took my jacket off, fixing my hair. I walked up to the man at the counter, Joel, who smiled kindly.

"Hello again Ib. Nice to see you. Chilly out there, isn't it?" he asked me, his kind old eyes lighting up. I grinned, nodding.

"Yes, very. But still incredibly beautiful out. I forgot how lovely the town looked during winter." I replied. He nodded.

"Oh yes. Now, what can I get you today dear?" he asked me. I ordered my usual, some macaroons and milk, then walked over to the table that I always sat at in the very back corner of the store. It had a beautiful view of the town square.

I slowly bit into the first macaroon, sighing as the familiar taste spread throughout my mouth. I continued to eat, trying not to think about the gallery too much. After I was finished, I sat, looking out the window at all of the people, hurrying around outside in the snow.

When I was finally ready to leave, I stood up, tugging on my coat once more and standing up. I thanked Joel, then pushed open the door. I was greeted by the bitter chill of the winter wind. I pulled my hood on even further, practically covering my entire face. I kept my eyes on the ground, trying to save my face from being chilled by the intense wind. Many thoughts continued to swirl inside my brain. As I was walking, I suddenly slammed into something hard.

"Ah!" I shrieked, flying backwards and landing on a large pile of snow that had been shoveled off the sidewalk. I struggled to free myself, but all the wind had been knocked out of me. I managed to get myself into a sitting position, then tried to regain my breath.

"Oh dear, I'm so sorry Miss. I wasn't watching where I was going." said a voice, muffled slightly by my hood. I recognized it to be the voice of a man. I looked up, peeking from underneath the hood. He stood up, brushing himself off and rushing over to me. He bent down, extending a hand to me. As he did, his hood fell off of his head. I gasped, my eyes widening. All I could do was stare at him.

"Are you alright? Did you hit your head when you fell?" he questioned, his eyes flitting around my face worryingly. Then, his blue eyes met my own. Surprise spread over his face rapidly.

"Those eyes..." he whispered, tilting his head slightly to the right. Then, he fell to his knees, raising his hands and grabbing either side of my hood. With one swift movement, he lowered it, revealing my full face. My dark hair tumbled down over my shoulders. The man gasped, raising a hand to his mouth.

"Ib...Is that really you?" he whispered. I looked up at him slowly, my eyes meeting his once more.

"Hello Garry."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Lost Time

Garry made a noise, in between a sob and a laugh, then pulled me into a tight hug. I wrapped my arms around him as well, finally allowing the tears to spill down my face. They chilled me as then splashed onto the back of Garry's winter coat.

"Oh Ib...I can't believe it..." he said. I sniffled, burying my face into his shoulder, trying to stifle my sobs. We sat in the snow for a few moments, unaware of all of the strange looks that we were receiving from random passerby. Not that it mattered. After a long while, Garry stood up, taking my hand and helping me up off of the snow as well.

"Follow me Ib." he said. I smiled, nodding. I followed him as he began walking in the opposite direction from the cafe. We traveled all the way across town, reaching a small hotel. He turned his head slightly, looking at me.

"I'm staying here for a while. Let's go inside. We need to talk Ib." he said. I nodded in agreement, following him upstairs and into one of the many rooms. He took out a key, unlocking the door and holding it open for me. I walked inside, taking off my shoes and coat and leaving them by the door. Garry did the same, and then led me to a small table in the main room. We sat down, staring at each other.

For the first time, I could see Garry clearly. He hadn't changed, not much anyway. He still had the same haircut, the same eyes, the same facial features. He had only gotten taller. He was still the same Garry from 9 years ago.

"Ib...Just look at you. You're so grown up now...I can't believe it. How old are you now, anyway?" he asked me, leaning forward. I smiled.

"Eighteen. I turned Eighteen in May." I replied. His eyes widened, then he closed them, laughing distantly.

"Eighteen. You're eighteen. The nine year old girl that I knew before is eighteen." he said in disbelief. I looked down.

"How old are you now Garry?" I asked him. I had never really asked his age before, so I had no idea.

"Just turned Twenty-Six on the fourth." he replied. I smiled to myself. He had always seemed so much older than me. I thought he would at least be thirty. I guess I had just depended on him so much that I had fooled myself into thinking that he was much older than he really was. So that would have made him only seventeen at the gallery.

"Twenty-Six. So you're only eight years older than me? That's unbelievable." I said, chuckling. He looked up, smiling.

"Yeah. It is. I just can't believe how much you've grown up since I saw you last. It seems like just yesterday I was saying goodbye to a little nine year old girl, and now you're eighteen." he said. Then, I frowned.

"Garry...Where did you go? Or...Why did you go? You just left. No goodbye, not a thing. I had to ask the owner of the cafe where you had gone." I said sadly. Garry took a deep breath, leaning back in his chair.

"And there it is. I knew you would ask that eventually. How could you not?" he said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Garry...you can tell me. Please, tell me...I was so worried about you..." I said, putting a hand on his shoulder. He looked at me, then exhaled loudly.

"Fine. After your parents told me off about being around you, I realized that they were right. You didn't need to be around someone like me. You didn't know who I was. I didn't even know who I was. I dropped out of high school and started smoking when I was fifteen. I ran away from home. I wasn't a good person. I tried to stop smoking, but it was so hard. But when I turned sixteen, I finally managed. Then I met you at the art gallery. A little nine year old girl who was already braver, more intelligent, and a better person than I ever was." he said, shaking his head. He looked up at me.

"You made me want to become a better person Ib. But when your parents said that I had no right to be around a nine year old, I realized that they were right. I wasn't trustworthy, and it was totally inappropriate for a seventeen year old man to be friends with a nine year old girl. So, I decided to leave. I moved to a new city, enrolled in high school again, and graduated. I got a job, and became someone that I was proud of. Someone I knew that you would be proud of." he said, whispering the last part so that I could barely hear it. I felt a lump form in my throat.

I wanted to yell at him. To tell him that he shouldn't have listened to my parents. That my life would have been better if he were in it. But I could never say that. He had become a better person. And he had done it all because of me. I swallowed, wiping my eyes quickly with the back of my sleeve.

"Garry...I was always proud of you. And I still am." I said, taking his hand and squeezing it. He looked up, smiling.

"That's really all I ever wanted." he replied, squeezing my hand in return. We stared at each other for a moment, then I turned away.

"I have to know...Now that you're back, are you staying?" I asked. There was nothing but silence. I looked up at him to see that he was avoiding my gaze, running his hand through his hair. I leaned forward.

"Are you?" I demanded, tears once again stinging at my eyes. He looked up, frowning slightly.

"Ib...I only came back here to see you. To tell you that I was alright. That doesn't change the fact that I still have a job and a home. I just needed to know that you wouldn't worry about me anymore. But still, you don't need to be around me. You should have friends that don't remind you of such dark times." he said. I shook my head in disbelief.

"No, Garry! You can't just come here for a few weeks and then leave me again! I've searched for you for the past nine years! I needed someone to talk to! Someone who understood why I woke up in the middle of the night, screaming! Someone who knew what I had been through! But you were gone!" I yelled, leaping out of my chair and knocking it over. Garry stared at me, his eyes wide.

"Ib...I had no idea..." he said, standing up as well and putting his hand on my shoulder. I jerked away, the tears finally spilling from my eyes.

"Of course you didn't! You weren't there to see it!" I said, becoming practically hysteric. The fury that I had from the past nine years of keeping such a huge secret was finally surfacing.

"It wouldn't have made a difference Ib. You don't understand, I wasn't a good person for you to be around. And I'm still not. You'll be better off forgetting everything that happened in the gallery that day." he said.

"See, that's your problem Garry! You still treat me like that nine year old girl that I was when you left! I'm eighteen now. I can make my own decisions!" I screamed. The room was painfully silent. Garry looked at me, then shook his head.

"Ib, I still have a house and a job back home. I can't stay. I'll be here for two weeks, then I have to go. But I'll come visit. You know where I am now, and you can call me every day for all I care. Actually, I would love that. Please, just try to understand." he said. I glanced at him, my rage finally subsiding.

"...I'm so sorry...I don't know what's the matter with me...I just missed you. It's been hard keeping that secret. I wanted someone to talk to..." I said, my voice shaking. Garry took my hand, holding it tightly.

"I know. Me too." he replied. We sat back down, talking about our new lives and what had happened since the art gallery. When I checked the clock next, I saw that it was past ten at night. I gasped, standing up quickly.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I had no idea it was so late. I should get home." I exclaimed. Garry smiled, standing up as well and pushing in his chair.

"It's alright. You're welcome here anytime. I'll walk you home." he said, walking over to the door.

"You don't have to do that Garry. I'm sure I'll manage to get home safely." I said, following him and putting on my coat and boots. Garry shook his head.

"No, I wouldn't feel comfortable letting you go home alone. Especially in the dark. Come on now." he said, smiling and pulling on his coat. I smiled, realizing that it was the exact same coat that he had worn years ago.

"Still have that old thing?" I asked him, running a hand along one of the sleeves. He blushed, looking down at it.

"Well, um, yes. I still haven't found a better one. And it still fits, sort of. I had to take it to the tailor and get it adjusted, but it's still a good coat." he explained. I laughed, opening the door and stepping out into the cold winter night. Garry and I walked along the streets, which were lit by the golden glow of the many street lights. I looked up, seeing that it was still snowing.

"I forgot how beautiful the snow is." Garry said, looking around. I pulled my hood up over my head.

"Doesn't it snow where you moved to?" I asked him, tilting my head to the side. He nodded.

"Yes, it does. Not very much though. And for some reason it's not as beautiful as it is here." he replied. I nodded. That was just another sign that he should move back. We walked in silence for a while, just enjoying the night. When we reached my house, I stopped.

"That's strange. All the lights are out. My parents said that they would be back seven at the latest." I said. We walked around the side of the house. I saw their car, and smiled.

"Oh, they are back. I guess they were just tired and went to bed early." I said, reaching into my pocket to get the key. To my surprise, it wasn't there. I checked the other pocket, still nothing. I checked all of the pockets in my coat, and there was no key.

"I know I brought the key to the house with me today...It must have fallen out of my pocket somehow..." I said. Garry frowned.

"Do you have a spare anywhere?" he asked. I nodded, walking up to the door and lifting up the mat. I picked up the spare key, slipping it into the keyhole and turning it. To my relief, the door clicked open. I turned to Garry, smiling.

"Well, thank you for walking me home. Do you want to come in?" I asked. Garry shook his head.

"No, I wouldn't want to intrude. Plus, I should probably be getting to sleep myself. How about we meet at the cafe tomorrow at noon?" he asked me. I nodded.

"Okay, that sounds good. I'll see you tomorrow then. Goodnight Garry." I said. He nodded.

"Goodnight Ib." he replied. There was a brief moment of awkward silence as we stood in the snow, staring at each other. Then, he smiled, turning away and hopping down the steps and out into the night. I sighed, opening the door and walking inside. I flicked on the lightswitch, but nothing happened. I flicked it back and forth a few times, then frowned. The power was out.

I went to the kitchen, grabbing a flashlight out of one of the drawers and flipping it on. A soft glow lit up the room. I walked upstairs and to my parents bedroom. They should know that the power is out. I knocked on the door a few times.

"Mother? Father? I'm sorry to wake you, but they power went out." I said. No answer. I knocked again. Still, there was no answer. Starting to get nervous, I opened the door. When I saw the bed, I gasped, the flashlight falling out of my hands and crashing to the floor. Then, I collapsed to my knees, letting out an ear-piercing scream.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

A Letter

My scream pierced through the night, breaking the calm silence that it had held before. This wasn't happening...It was some sort of terrible hallucination, surely. Bud did that mean that I had gone insane? I pressed my back against the wall, closing my eyes tightly. When I opened them again, there would be nothing in the bed. Nothing at all. It would have just been my imagination. I counted to three, took a deep breath, and let out another scream. The thing sitting on the bed had haunted my nightmares since I was nine years old.

The white mannequin head from the art gallery lay on my parent's bed, staring at me with big, black, hollow eyes. There had been hundreds all over the gallery. They had followed us. Tried to kill us. And now, here it was, in my house nine years later. As I stared at the horrible object, my heart pounding, I heard the door downstairs burst open and slam against the wall.

"Ib?! Ib, what's wrong? Where are you?!" Garred yelled up the stairs. I didn't answer. I couldn't answer. All I could do was stare at the mannequin head. I began to shake, first my hands, then my entire body. Fear had taken me over completely. I collapsed to the floor, holding my knees to my chest as if I was a little girl again. I heard loud footsteps bounding up the stairs, then a large shadow appeared in the doorway.

"Ib, I heard you scream from half way down the street! Are you alright?! Ib! Where are you?!" he cried out. He stepped inside the room, looking around frantically. Finally, his eyes fell upon me, sitting in the corner. He ran over, kneeling next to me.

"Oh my God, Ib. What happened?!" He yelled, grabbing my shoulders firmly. I was still shaking violently, and not even Garry's strong grip could stop me. I didn't take my eyes off of the mannequin head behind him. When he didn't get an answer from me, Garry followed my gaze up to the bed. It took him only a few seconds to find the head in the darkness. He stood straight up, spinning around to face it.

"Wh-what...No...No, that's not possible..." he whispered, fear lacing his voice. He walked over, examining it. Then, to my surprise, he picked it up. Before I knew what was happening, he lifted it up and flung it against the wall. It shattered into hundreds of tiny, glittering white pieces. It was as if I had been lifted from some sort of trance. I fell from my sitting position onto the wooden floor, letting out loud sobs.

Garry looked over at me. He had a strange look in his eyes. It was a mix of rage, frustration, and fear. As he continued to stare at me, however, the look faded into one of pure sadness. He raised a hand to his face, running it quickly through his hair.

"Oh, Ib..." he said softly. He slowly began to walk over to me, his shoes thudding against the floor. He sat down next to me, resting his head against the wall. I continued to shiver and cry pathetically next to him. Had the situation been any different, I would have been humiliated by my behaviour. But all I could think of was that stupid mannequin head, and everything that it had done to my life. All of the memories that it had ruined. I squeezed my eyes shut. Why was this happening? Why?!

Suddenly, I felt something softly cover me. Something warm, and very familiar. I opened my eyes slightly, seeing that Garry had once again covered me with his jacket. Naturally, it didn't cover my entire body anymore, but it was still quite comforting, nonetheless. I pulled it up over my shoulders, crying some more. After a long time, I was able to pull myself together enough to sit up. Garry had been sitting next to me the entire time, his face in his hands. I couldn't tell if he was crying or not, but I scooted closer to him.

"G-Garry...I'm scared..." I whispered to him through the darkness. He looked up slowly, his eyes meeting mine for the hundredth time that day. He reached over, grabbing my hand and squeezing it.

"Me too..." he replied softly, lifting his other hand and brushing back some of my hair. I leaned my head onto his shoulder, closing my eyes. We sat it complete silence for a few moments before he released my hand, standing up and walking back over to the shattered pieces of the mannequin head. He bent down, examining them slowly. Then, he reached into the middle of the broken mess, pulling out what looked to be a small slip of paper. He picked up the flashlight that I had dropped, shining it onto the paper. His face darkened as he read it to himself.

"What is it Garry?" I questioned, honestly not even wanting to know. He looked up at me over the top of the paper, then walked over, handing me both the it and the flashlight. I took them out of his hands, then shone the light onto the paper, reading the scribbles. It was written in what appeared to be crayon, and was very messy. I could barely make out what it said.

Dear Ib and Garry,

It's me again! You missed me, didn't you! Well, I haven't forgotten about you either! You left before we could play some more! I've been so lonely here in the gallery. The other paintings are so boring. So, to persuade you to come here, I took something from you Ib! Something I know you'll miss! I took your parents! Don't worry silly, I didn't hurt them. But I will if you don't come here quickly! So you'd better hurry, both of you. I don't like to be kept waiting!

Hugs and Kisses,

Mary

I dropped the paper as if it had burnt me. Shaking my head, I stood up quickly, backing away from the stupid letter.

"No...No, that's not possible. It can't be. She's dead, you burnt her painting Garry! I was there, I remember, I saw her turn to ash!" I yelled. He closed his eyes, rubbing his temples slowly.

"I...I don't know Ib...I thought she was dead too but...Now that I think about it...Can you really kill something that never existed in the first place? I mean...She came alive because of a painting." Garry whispered. I shook my head.

"I can't believe this...She's back Garry...And she's got my parents...She's going to kill them unless I help..." I whispered, burying my face in my hands. Garry put a hand on my shoulder.

"Ib...She won't kill them. Not for a while anyway. She has to be bluffing. We just need to take some time and figure out what we're going to do." he whispered. I shook my head.

"I have to go get them. Now. I have to go back to the gallery..." I said softly, opening my eyes. Garry's head snapped up, his eyes wide and fearful.

"No Ib, don't be ridiculous! I won't let you go back there and get yourself killed! I won't! I just got you back and...and..." he began. Then, he dropped his head, his face turning slightly pink. "And never mind the reason Ib, you're not going." he yelled, looking back up at me. I glared at him.

"They are my parents Garry. You can't stop me from going to save my parents. I don't care if I get killed, I have to at least try to get them back! You of all people have to understand that!" I yelled, stepping back from him. He took a step after me, his eyes pleading.

"Ib...Please...For my sake...Do not try to go back into that gallery. How do you ever know that she has your parents? It could all just be a big trap to lure you in and kill you!" he yelled. I pointed behind him out the window.

"Their car is in the driveway, and they said that they would be back seven at the latest. And if there is one thing I know about my parents, I know that they are always on time. And, if they weren't, they would call me first thing." I explained.

"What if their phones are dead?" Garry asked. I glared at him, then walked over to my parent's bedside table, picking up the small white telephone and dialing my mother's cell phone number. It rang a few times before I heard something from downstairs. I looked up at Garry, then ran out of the room. I sped down the stairs and into the kitchen.

As I had guessed, there, laying on the dining room table, were all of my parents things, including my mother's cell phone. I clicked the 'End Call' button, throwing the home phone onto the table. I heard soft footsteps behind me, and turned to see that Garry was staring at the table. He glanced back up at me, opening his mouth, then closing it slowly. He was obviously out of all stood in silence for a few moments, looking at each other.

"I'm sorry Garry, but I'm going. And nothing you can do or say is going to stop me." I said. Garry let out a long breath, closing his eyes.

"Then I'm going with you." he said, crossing his arms. I immediately began to shake my head.

"No Garry, there's no need for us both to get involved. Please, just stay here. It's my parents that they have, not yours. You don't have to walk back into that nightmare." I protested, grabbing his arms. He looked down at me, smiling.

"I don't have to go. But I'm going to . Besides, it's dangerous for a young lady to go all alone. So, I'll stick with you. Now, let's find a way in." he said. I shook my head, a small laugh fighting through my fear. Those were almost the exact same words that he had said when I found him nine years ago.

"Alright...Let's go." I replied, my heart pounding. Garry nodded. We quickly got ready, then I headed for the door. Garry turned around, looking back at the entryway to the kitchen. He looked over his shoulder at me.

"One moment, I think I forgot something." he said. I nodded, bending down to tie my shoelaces. When I got back up, I saw Garry emerging from the kitchen, slipping something into his pocket. I looked at him inquisitively.

"What was that?" I questioned, pointing at the right pocket of his coat. He looked up, shaking his head.

"It...It's nothing. Come one now, let's go. Who knows how long it'll take before that lunatic becomes impatient." he said. I stared at him for a few seconds, then nodded. We walked quickly out the door, and for the gallery.

Garry and I walked down the street, in total silence. The snow had stopped, but the clouds were still blocking the moon and the stars. The only light shining over the town was the light from the street lamps. As we walked, I took Garry's hand in my own, holding onto it tightly. He looked at me out of the corner of his eye, then turned his attention back to the street, giving my hand a small squeeze.

We continued to walk until we reached the street that the gallery was on. I froze, staring at it. Garry glanced over at me, lifting his other hand and tousling my hair playfully. I looked up, giving him a half-hearted smile, which he didn't return. I turned around, starting to walk once again. When we reached the gallery itself, I felt like I would be sick. It loomed over us, dark and menacing, its windows boarded up.

"Nine years. I've avoided this...thing...for nine whole years. And now, here I am. Walking back into it by my own choice." I said in disbelief. Garry nodded.

"I know." he replied simply. We stood quietly for a few minutes, staring at the building. Then, I sighed, knowing that I couldn't avoid it any longer.

"So, how are we going to get in?" I questioned. As if on cue, there was a click, and the front door opened right in front of us. I stepped back, looking at Garry, who was staring at the door and shaking his head. He dropped my hand, walking ahead.

"This is exactly what they want us to do." he muttered so that I could barely hear him. I squeezed my eyes shut. What kind of person was I to drag Garry back in here? Especially after he had almost died last time...I took a few steps forward, then opened my eyes. Once we were both fully inside the gallery, the doors slammed shut. Garry reached for them, pushing roughly. He sighed.

"Locked. Of course. Now that they've got us trapped, they aren't keen on letting us escape." he said. I shivered, looking around the gallery and wrapping my arms around myself. It was exactly as I had remembered it in all of my nightmares. The paintings were still hung on the walls. The statues still stood n their respectful places. I walked a few feet ahead, cringing as my footsteps echoed through the empty building.

"So...How are we supposed to go back? You know, back to the other place..." Garry asked, following me. I glanced down the hallway to my right.

"I think I know. Follow me." I replied, walking swiftly ahead of him, following the familiar path to the painting that I remembered clearer than any. When I saw it, I cringed. It hadn't changed at all. It still hung in the exact same position.

"There it is...Fabricated World..."I said softly, pointing at it. Garry stared at the painting, running his hands along the frame. In a split second, the entire golden frame dissapeared. I turned to Garry, who looked at me. There was clearly fear in his eyes now. Fear that I hadn't seen in a very long time.

"It wants us to go inside, Ib. It's now or never." Garry whispered, resting a hand on my arm. I took a deep breath, then put a hand on the canvas. It disappeared through the picture. I looked at Garry.

"Together?" I asked him simply. He paused for a moment, still mesmerized with the picture. Then, he tore his eyes from it, taking my hand once again.

"Together." he replied, smiling sweetly. We took a step forward, and fell into the painting.


End file.
